I always knew that being a mum would mean protecting my children at all costs. What I didn’t expect was that one day, I’d be trying to shield my daughter not just from the typical scraped knees or playground bullies you anticipate, but from a tidal wave of incredibly intense hate coming from strangers all around the world. But that’s exactly what happened.
A while ago, I wrote a blog post about my child. My blog back then was a space I used to vent whenever life felt overwhelming or unkind, and after I had tried to book a Princess Makeover for my three-year-old at Disneyland Paris and been rejected because they said it was only available to girls – I was angry. So without giving it much thought, I did what I always did – I vented it all out in a blog post.
I wrote about how I found it a ridiculous policy for a place like Disney, which is supposed to be all about imagination and freedom to be ourselves, and I wrote about how upsetting I found it. I thought it might resonate with a few other parents, maybe open a few eyes to the discrimination that exists in society towards children who don’t fit into the stereotypes we place on their gender.
I used a cute photo of my child dressed up in their favourite Elsa dress, which they wore almost every day. I pressed publish. And I didn’t think much more about it. I headed straight out for my niece’s birthday dinner.
What I didn’t expect was for that post to immediately go viral.
Within a couple of hours, my phone was ringing constantly with reporters trying to buy our story. I sat at the pizza restaurant with my family feeling absolutely bemused. I had no idea how they had even got my phone number.
The next day we were contacted by our local TV news show, who asked if they could send a reporter to cover the story – telling us they were hoping that if we gave an interview, they might be able to encourage Disneyland Paris to reconsider their policy. So I agreed, and I hoped that doing the interview would put an end to all of the interest. It did not.
Overnight, our quiet corner of the internet turned into something else entirely. Our story was picked up by news outlets across the world, our inboxes overflowed with requests to go on various TV shows and be interviewed by global publications, and suddenly my daughter’s face and name were being discussed by people we had never met.
RuPaul even tweeted about her. That’s how global it had become in just a few short hours.
I had been incredibly naïve to the way that the media works – I had always assumed that publications needed permission to republish photographs of children, but I found out the hard way that they do not. Although I did not accept any offers to talk to any publications at all, and I turned down every single request to appear on TV shows other than that one news broadcast, it didn’t matter. My child’s picture was displayed in news articles across the world.
And suddenly, we were on display for the entire world to see.
At first, it felt surreal — overwhelming, but also important, like maybe sharing our experience could help make the world a little kinder. And in some ways it did – Disneyland Paris did issue an apology and correct their policy, which is something my child is proud of playing a small part in to this day.
But as the days turned into weeks, the darker side of the internet revealed itself. Alongside the support came an avalanche of cruelty: messages about us on internet forums laced with venom accusing me of making the story up despite the email proof I volunteered, strangers sending death threats aimed at both me and my child, wishing everything from cancer to violent deaths on us both because they were so enraged by a three-year-old wanting to wear a Princess dress, and the chilling realisation that people out there wished harm on my child simply for existing.
What is really difficult is that, at the time I wrote the article, I thought my toddler simply loved Princesses. I didn’t know anything more than that at the time, and the influx of messages I received accusing me of forcing my child to be “trans” seemed not only cruel but also inaccurate – as far as I was aware my child wasn’t trans.
But actually, we found out much later that they were indeed trans after all. And when I first found that out, those disgusting, hateful messages full of threats and vitriol were the first thing I thought about.
When your child comes out as trans, the first thing most parents feel is some variation of fear.
It might manifest itself as upset, confusion, denial or even anger – but at the root of those things is usually fear. Because as parents, all any of us really want is for our children to be safe and happy. So knowing that they are going to be more exposed to hate and perhaps even violence because of who they are is a terrifying thought.
I felt that same fear. But the difference for me was that it wasn’t just fear of an imagined reality – it was fear in the knowledge of what existed out in the world. I had seen, heard and felt that hatred first-hand – I knew it was real. I will never be able to explain how horrifying that feeling is.
Now we’re several years down the line. The problem that society has with accepting trans people hasn’t got any better, as I convinced myself it would back at the beginning. Instead, it’s become worse than I could have imagined, with hate now being directed towards the trans community on a government level across the UK, USA and many other countries.
The experience we had with that viral post has shaped my view of how the world feels about trans people irrevocably. That awareness lingers every day, like a dark shadow over my hopes for my daughter’s future.
And yet, alongside all of that fear, there has always been something else too: love, resilience, and an unshakable pride in who my daughter is.
Every time I see her laugh with her friends, every time she expresses herself with confidence and joy, I’m reminded that she is not defined by those strangers behind their keyboards. She is defined by her courage, her kindness, and the light she brings into our lives. Those people will never have the joy of knowing the light, truth and bravery of transgender people and it’s a real shame for them. Their loss is huge and they don’t even know it because they’re so blinded by hate.
I think it’s also important to note that over the years, I’ve also realised that while the world can be cruel, it can also be unbelievably kind. For every vile message we received, there were countless others filled with support — parents, allies, and members of the LGBTQ+ community reaching out to remind us we weren’t alone. Companies offering to give us princess makeovers, or individuals sharing their own stories with us, reassuring us that good does exist. Those voices helped me remember that change, although slow, is happening. And that my daughter’s story is part of something bigger: a growing movement towards compassion and understanding. I believe deep down that we will get there eventually.
The hate is loud, but our love for our child has always and will always be louder. We can’t change the world for her as much as we desperately wish we could. We can’t change the hardened hearts of the people who wish harm on her just for being who she is…but we CAN fill her heart so full of love, confidence and self belief that she never questions for a second whether the hateful ones are right
So while the shadow of that early experience still follows me, I hold tightly to the belief that my daughter deserves a safe, happy future — and that together, with others who believe in equality and kindness, we can ALL help to build a world where she has it.
One conversation, one challenged belief, one step at a time.